Phantom Cruisers
by ohmygiddyaunt
Summary: The Mother Road took them where they wanted to go…those who weren’t lost along the way. Mater will be scared out of his headlight, lol evilly


**Phantom Cruisers**

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The Mother Road took them where they wanted to go…those who weren't lost along the way. (Mater will be scared out of his headlight, lol evilly)

Disclaimer—Heck, I don't even own my own _Cars_ DVD, yet.

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It was a dark and stormy—er, it was a quiet, moonlit night, little puffs of breeze buffing Mack as the tired semi hauled down the last stretch of desert-bounded pavement on the way to home base in Radiator Springs. Lightning McQueen, racer (and ego) extraordinaire, was grinding his teeth in his sleep back in the Rust-Eze trailer, undoubtedly reliving some track business in his dreams. Mack considered waking him up, but decided to leave it to Sal when they reached the 'Cone. Lightning's new garage was well fitted-out, and construction had been finished for weeks, but the racecar had not yet shown any desire to actually sleep there. Mack figured he could understand.

A few miles off the ramp, Mack caught a faint hint of headlights in his mirrors. It brightened, too fast. Someone was coming down the old two-lane at break-windshield speed. Distance could be deceiving in the desert, but Mack could now make out two headlights, and the maniac wasn't slowing as he approached the cruising tractor-trailer. Mack concluded fast that if he didn't act, he was about to be severely rear-ended. He eased off the cracked pavement and into the scrub just in time to see the speed-demon blur past in the direction of town.

"One for Sheriff," Mack almost had time to think—but while still within sight, the speeder appeared to lose control and wrench left off the road. Headlights and taillights appeared to rotate twice in the air, and then disappeared out in the brush. Mack pulled back onto the road, simultaneously calling out an SOS on the CB radio. "Red Runner here, attention Sheriff, attention Sheriff, we have a single-auto wreck out here, looks nasty. We need emergency vehicles on 66 east of Radiator Springs, about seven miles. Respond!" Mack could see smoke beginning to drift up in the moonlight, as he came flush with the shallow arroyo the wrecked automobile had landed in.

His CB crackled slightly. "RS Sheriff here, we're on our way, Mack, over." That was a relief; Mack wasn't capable of getting down there, and he didn't have a winch. Besides, he could see a tire from here. The only one nearby equipped to right an upside-down car was Mater.

How had Lightning not woken up yet? Dang, but he was a sound sleeper. Mack rolled out over the cacti and rocky desert pavement, trying to get his headlamps aimed at the injured car. What they came to rest on did not look good. Reflective chrome was all that shone back; the Studebaker's lights were off and, aside from the thinning smoke, all was still. Mack was no ambulance, but he was afraid this one would be D.O.A. (dead on arrival). Sadly, he reversed back to the highway to allow access for when Mater and the rest arrived.

That would be very soon—Mack could hear Sheriff's siren already, and he turned to see the headlights of said lawcar, Red, Doc, and Mater, coming up the road in a speeding caravan. Red blasted his much louder siren once in greeting, which finally woke McQueen.

As Lightning tried to get his bearings, he could hear familiar voices outside the trailer. Mack's said something like, "Over there, something something late," and a voice that definitely belonged to Sheriff said, "Red, get ready just in case." There was some calling, and then arguing, that Lightning couldn't make out, and then Mack again: "Yes, right there, a fifty-something Studebaker. Right there!"

Lightning decided at this point that whatever was going on needed his attention. He popped the ramp on the trailer, and was annoyed to see that the only light outside came from the moon and a grouping of headlights. Mater, one light short (hehe, ahem…), had pulled back up by Mack. Lightning inched up behind him, and revved a little. It was the first time he ever witnessed a tow truck spring three feet into the air.

"AAAAAck!" Mater yelled like he had rolled over a rusty nail, causing Sheriff's spotlight to swivel back towards him. Having lit on the culprit, and made out Lightning's unlit silhouette, Sheriff set it back to sweeping the arroyo with a muffled snort. Mater, having figured out who was behind him, had calmed down enough to explain why the lot of them were out in the desert in the middle of the night.

"Mack says another feller done crashed out here, but we can't find him! I think," Mater whispered sideways to McQueen, "It must'a been a ghost."

"Mater," Lightning tried, "You do remember that ghosts aren't real, right? I mean, the whole 'Ghost Light' thing was just a prank! You saw that!"

Mater flashed him a look of utter exasperation. "It wasn't real that time, but that doesn't mean there ain't no such thing."

Lightning was prevented by responding when Doc hollered, from a few yards down along the edge, "Sheriff! Can I borrow a little light?!" Sheriff edged up alongside Hudson, aiming his spot where directed. Something gleamed metallically from between the rocks. Doc yelled back again, "Mater, we need you to do some fishing." The tow truck winked at Lightning, and backed easily up to the drop-off, line at the ready. Using his mirrors expertly, Mater caught the object with his hook and began to work it out from between the rocks. Once it was free, he pulled slowly away from the edge, allowing it to drag up the side of the arroyo without slipping off the hook. Sheriff beamed his spot on the object, and the rest of the cars pulled forward to have a look. Mack looked relieved to be vindicated, stating, "Yep, that's his."

Mater, however, appeared to be shaking from his tow hook to his lug nuts as he stared at the rust-pecked Studebaker hubcap.


End file.
